


Nicotine

by bluesaliva



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Roommates, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesaliva/pseuds/bluesaliva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving Kuroo's a fucking drag. But Bokuto needs it so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicotine

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song nicotine by panic at the disco (p!atd)  
> when i started this it was either gonna be bokuroo or rinrei and you can obvs tell what it turned out to be.  
> i don't usually write song fics, and i'm surprised at how this one came out so hopefully y'all like it.  
> would totally suggest listening to the song on repeat as you read this.
> 
> hit me up on tumblr @ haitoku-no-kioku

_ I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you _

 

The first time he and Kuroo kissed it was a mistake. An accident, if you will. Bokuto at least wanted to think of the entire thing as an accident, as if to try and trick his mind into complying with not thinking about it any more than he had to. When their lips brushed that day on the last day of third year training camp before they parted ways to prepare for college exams, Kuroo hadn’t thought anything of it - he laughed it off, shaking his messy hair with a  _ “Watch where you’re going Bo, you just stole my first kiss.” _

 

Of course, it wasn’t Kuroo’s first kiss. Bokuto remembered the day that Kuroo called him in near hysterics because he’d kissed Kenma, something that Bokuto sincerely thought the two had already done. “Of course not, it’s  _ Kenma _ .” Kuroo had hissed through the line. Bokuto distractedly picked at his nails, pressing the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he continued with this menial task with the TV going in the background; some variety show he couldn’t remember the name of was playing and while he didn’t really know the context of anything that was going on (as was common with variety shows), he found it interesting enough. “Eh, I guess I just thought you guys would’ve done  _ it _ already, you know? I mean I know Kenma’s not the most forward or open about… Well anything. But it just seemed like you already did.” He shrugged, though Kuroo couldn’t see it, and risked his phone dropping to the floor for a few paralyzing seconds before he maneuvered it more firmly against his ear with his shoulder. 

 

“Why would you think that?” Kuroo’s voice climbed higher in pitch and Bokuto knew he was blushing, probably up to his ears now. He chuckled low in the back of his throat. “You guys are super close. Like, weirdly close.” Bokuto elaborated. “Kenma’s pretty cute too. I know you like him.” Kuroo sputtered more over the line and this caused Bokuto to laugh loudly. “Oh man Kuroo, seriously. Whenever you look at him you always have this weird dazed look. It’s kinda fucking cute.”

“Shut up, Bo.” 

“Whatever, you asked me why kitty cat~ Don’t get mad. You know it’s true.” Bokuto found it easier to not stress over the fact that his crush had kissed someone else if he teased him about it. 

“Whatever. Anyway, now I don’t have my first kiss anymore!” 

“Well didn’t you lose it to your crush? What’s the problem. Hey, what even happened? Like  _ why _ did you guys start sucking face?”

“Well...”

 

Bokuto thought about the fluttering that must’ve brimmed in Kuroo’s chest when the smaller, more elegant boy’s lips touched his. And a few weeks later, he was thinking about how Kuroo must’ve felt nothing at all when they did. Bokuto had to wonder if he imagine Kuroo’s face flushing, or if he’d simply wanted him to. He wondered if Kuroo felt how hard his heart was beating against his chest when their lips touched.

 

_ So I say damn your kiss and the awful things you do _

 

It was the night after their last few finals; Bokuto had two in the morning and Kuroo had one in the afternoon. And god, even though he’d been in college for three years now, rolling slowly but surely into his fourth and final year with his best friend beside him, he was still never prepared for the onslaught. Students such as the two of them always collapsed across and around campus; unable to muster the strength to go on between trying to study or trying to sleep before they trudged off to their next doomsday. Kuroo had always been more proactive than him. While lazy, he also just knew everything. He didn’t have to work for academics like Bokuto did. And if he wanted to keep his athletic scholarship, he had to pull through. He always did.

 

When Kuroo finally tromped back into their apartment, Bokuto had already broken out the celebratory booze; cans of beer and half empty bottles of vodka lay strewn about on the various tables and counters in the small box the two of them called home. Kuroo raised a disapproving, yet amused eyebrow at the scene before him; Bokuto sitting in the middle of it all, lounging back on the couch, open beer in hand with one leg swung unceremoniously over the backside of the couch. “Already started without me?”

“You were taking too long.” Bokuto heaved a loud sigh when Kuroo shoved him over so he could wrestle his way onto the couch. “We really need a bigger couch.” Kuroo observed. Bokuto pouted. 

 

“What, you don’t like sharing space with me?”

“You know I don’t mind that, Bo. What I  _ do _ mind is feeling like I have 3 inches of space between us that we have to split. We aren’t exactly small you know?” It was true. Over the past years, between simple growth spurts and working out (moreso from Bokuto than Kuroo, but Kuroo did go to the gym twice a week; he didn’t live there like Bokuto seemed to - or at least had to with biceps like that), the two of them had gotten taller. Broader. More muscle. And thus made squeezing into tighter spaces that weren’t a problem for relaitively still scrawny teenage them was a lot more complicated than it was before. Bokuto still pouted however, and Kuroo rolled his eyes, shoving him a little.

 

“Don’t get into a mood Bo. It gets worse when you drink.” Bokuto grumbled to himself, resigning himself to a sip of beer.

 

“You wouldn’t mind if it was Kenma.” He murmured sullenly, pouting his lip. Kuroo stared at him.

 

Bokuto had been doing that a lot more lately.

 

_ You’re worse than nicotine _

 

It’d started a few months ago. Right after he graduated, Kenma took a gap year, and Kuroo thought that it was a pretty good move for him; he was young, confused, and still not really sure what he wanted to do… Aside from play video games. During that time, he played in a few tournaments, won a few of them too (read: won  _ every one he entered _ ), and his room was littered with trophies by the time he had to really start thinking about what he wanted to do. While Kenma’s parents were always understanding, his father was very adamant about Kenma taking his place as the CEO of his company - something completely out of Kenma’s element mind you - and without thinking too hard about it, Kenma had agreed to try it out. He didn’t know what he wanted to do anyway, so why not? That’s, at least, what Kenma had told Kuroo when he was giving him the news about spending a year at an American school on exchange. Kuroo had been a mess when Kenma left, and the promises to call often and write didn’t satiate him like he tried to make Kenma believe.

 

The first month was the worst; time differences were the  _ worst _ , and unfortunately whenever he was awake, Kenma was asleep and vice versa. Though he did manage to catch him for the first week due to a combination of jet lag and still having free time - it wasn’t too long before Kenma became too busy with school and learning the ropes of his father’s company to have free time for chatting or his games. He never sounded thrilled when he talked about it. During that time, Bokuto had been there for him. Still emotionally stable (well, as emotionally stable as Bokuto could be given his personality and mental shticks), and not grieving Kenma being gone any since the two of them weren’t particularly close, he’d taken care of Kuroo. Held him when he cried in frustration about not being able to talk to Kenma, came up with elaborate rouses with Akaashi to try and cheer him up, made him breakfast in bed on more than one occasion… Bokuto was really the best friend and best roommate that anyone could ask for. 

 

He told him that all the time. Bokuto always blushed bashfully, but pleased, then puffed out his chest, declaring up to high heaven that  _ of course _ he was! Kuroo should be lucky to have him!

 

Kuroo was. He just didn’t know how to say it any better than a  _ “Thanks man.” _ or  _ “You don’t have to do this.” _ Bokuto knew he didn’t. Yet he did anyway.

 

Once the initial shock and unwanted feeling of not having Kenma within a phone call’s reach at all times dissipated, everything went back to a sort of norm. Kuroo and Bokuto had their classes, they drank alcohol and crashed on their too small couch more often than not to watch terrible reality TV or American movies without subs that they could hardly understand. They hung out with Akaashi, and old members from their team from time to time, and occasionally had study dates and outings with people from their classes. But for the most part; it was a norm - a domestic lifestyle that Bokuto was more content with than Kuroo pegged him to be. But many said that owl’s were simply winged cats. And with Bokuto cat-stretching and yawning beside him every morning on their somewhat shared futon, Kuroo sort of had to think that the owl boy was a bit like a cat, even if he would peck his brains out for saying it.

 

Everything came crashing down when Kenma came back to Japan and transferred to their university.

 

At least, everything did for  _ Bokuto _ , Kuroo was more than happy to have his childhood friend by his side again. Everything felt complete that way.

 

Bokuto supposed that he just forgot. He didn’t hate or particularly dislike Kenma, he just didn’t know what to do with the other boy outside of ask him about video games, which is something Kenma could do for hours and the only time Bokuto has ever seen him excited about anything - even if Kuroo did insist that Kenma got excited about a lot of things. Bokuto supposed it had to do with years of experience reading the kid’s facial expressions.

 

_ It's better to burn than to fade away  
I'm going numb, I've been hijacked _

 

In truth, Bokuto enjoyed he and Kuroo’s domestic, almost boyfriend like behavior over the past year. He liked rolling over to see Kuroo’s soft features in the morning light. They sort of shared a futon; mostly because their apartment was a very,  _ very _ small one room, bathroom, kitchen deal that was cheap to pay but they lost the battle of space because of. Bokuto complained about it the most when they first moved in, but in truth he couldn’t be more thankful for this small space. It forced them to brush, bump, rub and slide against one another more than they would have if they lived somewhere else. It forced their already good relationship into an even better one; one where casual touch was part of their intricately worked routine of existence. The number of times Kuroo would merely pull Bokuto on his lap on the fold up couch when they watched TV together was enough to make Bokuto anticipate it whenever they watched TV, no matter who’s house it was. The number of showers they’d taken together made Bokuto’s heart sing whenever the thought crossed his mind. They cooked together, and during the winter they pushed their futons closer together, huddling in the middle and clinging to each other for warmth because the insulation in this place sucked. But Bokuto liked feeling Kuroo’s hot breath against his neck while the other boy slept; he liked being able to lazily card his fingers through Kuroo’s messy hair without having to think about how weird it was. Moving into this place made touching less weird.

 

However, all good things must come to an end. 

 

In truth, Bokuto’s face fell when Kuroo told him the news that Kenma was coming back. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. He wasn’t jealous - no! Of course not. It wasn’t even like he and Kuroo made actual  _ progress  _ on a relationship throughout the year. They were just best bros that were touchier than the average Yamato. No big deal. That’s how Kuroo saw it. Bokuto saw it as  _ the start of something new _ \- the only song he’d been able to pick up on when he and Kuroo watched High School Musical one night of aimless drinking at home. He’d played it off.

 

“That just means we have to throw him a welcome back party! So I was just thinking about what we should tell Akaashi!” Kuroo laughed in understanding, and was quick to brush it off. When he’d turned his back, Bokuto let his fake smile fall. Everything was going to change. There’d be no more acting like “boyfriends” if Kenma was around. Kuroo doted on him like no other; in fact, their relationship struck him as something similar to a manga Akaashi was reading once back in highschool -  _ Black Butler _ . Kuroo did have black hair and a mysterious personality; Kenma was pretty small. Kuroo would also be one  _ hell _ of a butler. Close enough right? 

 

Bokuto didn’t give it much more thought.

 

As predicted however, things did change.

 

Kuroo was home much less; he was more often than not out doing stuff or visiting Kenma in his on-campus dorm that he shared with that excited orange haired kid from Karasuno - what were the chances right?! It was something to look forward to though, when they hung out, Bokuto and Hinata could run about and act silly as they liked to do, and Bokuto would be distracted from thinking about how  _ close _ Kenma and Kuroo were. He wondered if Kenma knew how lucky he was to have Kuroo sticking to him like glue? If he didn’t take advantage of it, Bokuto would happily trade places with him. 

 

When Kuroo did come home, it was either pretty late, and he merely crawled into bed and was out like a light, or he brought Kenma along with him. The first time Kenma came into their apartment, he’d wrinkled his nose a little, commenting on how it was even possible for two unnecessarily beefy guys to fit into such a small space. To be fair, Kenma hadn’t done anything but get a bit taller; his hair also got longer. He was very pretty, like Akaashi; but more feminine. 

 

Bokuto told him he could be a model. Kuroo agreed. Kenma had flushed a deep crimson.

 

Bokuto wanted to tell Kuroo that he missed him, missed how things  _ were _ between them. But he also couldn’t get the words out without feeling like a fucking idiot.

 

_ Just one more hit and then we’re through _

 

“Bo!” Kuroo laughed softly, trying to diffuse the pout on his friend’s face by waving his hand in front of his face. Bokuto pushed his face into the hand, nuzzling it, and Kuroo moved his hand from his face to his hair, carding his long fingers through Bokuto’s wild black and white hair. “What’s with you seriously. I know we’re supposed to be celebrating the end of finals, but you look more half dead than anything.”

“Yeah, well. I feel half dead. You only had one test today. I had two. In history  _ and _ chemistry!” Two of Bokuto’s worst subjects, due to the sole fact that he couldn’t be bothered to remember the names of people, nor the concepts that they created. 

 

“Mm, if you had chemistry today, you could’ve asked me to help you.”

“You were sleeping jackass. I tried waking you up three times!” Kuroo scoffed. “You weren’t trying hard enough.”

“I apologize,” Bokuto droned, curling into himself and scooting towards one end of their little couch, or at least he did as best he could. “I’m not Kenma who can wake you up just by  _ breathing _ .” Kuroo’s brow knitted. Bokuto knew he was being childish, but he didn’t really care enough to feel bad about it.

 

“Why do you keep doing that?”   
“Doing what?”   
“Comparing yourself to Kenma… Like it’s a contest or something?”

“I mean isn’t it?” Bokuto asked. “You like him better than me.” Kuroo let out a startled laugh. “What? You think I like Kenma better than you?”

 

Bokuto could’ve seriously punched him.

 

“You’re always hanging out with him, you’re always at his dorm. You literally had a mental breakdown when he left to go to America last year.” Kuroo’s face flushed and Bokuto knew he’d gotten him, though he wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He pulled his legs closer to himself, suddenly wanting nothing more to run, but had nowhere to really go. 

 

“That doesn’t mean I like Kenma better than you.”

 

“What does it mean then Kuroo? That you’re obsessed with him? Because I mean - you kind of are.” Kuroo bristled. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Um-” Bokuto flushed. He didn’t really know how to answer this, but Kuroo didn’t really care enough to notice that things had suddenly gotten awkward. He leaned into Bokuto’s space as much as Bokuto tried to lean away from him, but ceded to succeed with the couch being as small as it was. Maybe it was a good idea to get a bigger couch after all. 

 

“Um  _ what _ ?” He snapped. “Am I not allowed to have other friends or something? You would react just as badly if Akaashi left for a whole fucking year! Isn’t he your best friend too?” Bokuto let out a startled hoot at that, his wide eyes darting all over their room. “I don’t think I could react as badly as you did to Kenma leaving unless you’re the one that left.” Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to say that. Kuroo’s expression told him that he wasn’t supposed to say that. His dark eyes widened, and his suddenly angry demeanor dissipated as quickly as Bokuto had caused it to flare. He stared at him, wide eyed, disbelieving. Bokuto felt like ants were crawling all over his body. He had to get out. 

 

_ ‘Cause you could never love me back _

 

“I-I gotta go.” Bokuto bolted up off of the couch, and was out of the door before he could hear Kuroo’s shouts of  _ “Bo, wait!”  _ behind him. 

 

He continued to walk fast. He fast walked out of their apartment building, out towards the campus, without so much as daring to look behind him for the slim hope that Kuroo would follow him. Why would he? He was probably calling Kenma, telling him how awkward that entire exchange was just now. If he hadn’t already told Kenma he liked him, well, maybe Bokuto had just given him the perfect gateway opportunity to tell him. Maybe they’d get together. Maybe Bokuto would have to move out. Maybe he would be invited to their wedding a year from now and he would be Kuroo’s best man (since Kenma couldn’t very well be Kuroo’s best man if he was also the bride, but then there came the screeching thought that what if Kuroo didn’t even want him  _ there _ ? That was a thought that Bokuto couldn’t handle and he walked faster, feeling his breath coming out in shorter and shorter pants and his lungs felt like they were constricting like a goddamn accordion against his ribcage). Maybe he would have to give a speech at the wedding. What if he broke down crying in the middle of it and ruined Kuroo’s big day? What if he and Kuroo stopped being friends?

 

They couldn’t stop being friends, right? Kuroo wasn’t that petty. Kuroo wouldn’t do that to him, right? 

 

Bokuto felt like he couldn’t breathe. His mind was swirling with a million scenarios, and he wanted to scream as much as he wanted to rip his hair out, as much as he wanted to turn around and run home and tell Kuroo how much he fucking loved him so that it would hopefully relieve the pain that was tightening in his chest like a boa constrictor. 

 

Bokuto walked. He walked, he walked, he walked. And he finally stopped walking when he collapsed into the nearest bench, sobbing so hard that he couldn’t see two feet in front of him. Fuck. He’d really fucked up this time. Kuroo wasn’t supposed to know that he loved him, wasn’t supposed to know that he was nothing without him. He was supposed to just see Bokuto as his best bro, his best bro he could always depend on, who was always there for him, who would never get too down around him, the one that he could act like a fucking idiot around without a care in the goddamn world. 

 

_ That’s all I am to him.  _ Bokuto tried to convince himself. He’d tried telling this to himself millions of times before, but hell, how’s a million and one gonna hurt? He wanted to believe the lie so badly. Wanted to believe that he would be okay if this is all that Kuroo ever wanted him for. 

 

Akaashi found him there an hour later. Bokuto didn’t know how. Some 15 minutes into his panic, he’d realized that he’d left his phone at home and on the kitchen counter, which spurred his panicked spiral to close in deeper around his throat. 

 

_ Cut every tie I have to you _   
  


“Akaashi,” Bokuto sniffed when the dark haired boy approached him.

 

“Bokuto-san.” The sigh was heavy in Akaashi’s voice; not exasperated like it usually was, but almost distraught. “We’ve been looking for you for almost an hour.” 

“We?”

“Kenma and I.” Akaashi’s voice was gentle and Bokuto’s head snapped up to see the blond haired boy hiding behind Akaashi. He wasn’t looking down at his phone or a portable game or a handheld, and in fact there wasn’t even one in his hands. He was looking at Bokuto directly. Their eyes met and Bokuto began hiccuping when he saw him.

 

“I’m sorry Bokuto.” Kenma said quietly. “I’m sorry that Kuroo has been an idiot about this.” 

“It’s… It’s not your fault,” Bokuto gave him a hushed reply, and he scrubbed the palms of his hands against his face. “It was never your fault Kenma. It never  _ is. _ Kuroo likes you.” It wasn’t his business to tell, but Bokuto did it anyway. Maybe this way, Kenma could take action and Bokuto could further get on his way to recovering.

 

“He does like me. But not in the way you think, Bokuto.” Kenma was kneeling before him. His eyes were soft and his lashes were fluttering, like little butterflies in flight. Whenever Bokuto saw his face, he could understand how Kuroo could fall in love with it; and on appearances alone, Bokuto could’ve too. He had a crush on Akaashi when he first saw him after all; and his dark eyes were just as enchanting as Kenma’s catlike gaze. Bokuto shook his head. “No- no I think he does. He- He talks about you all the time. He can’t go on without you.”

“Yes he can.”

“No he can’t!”

“When you’re by his side he can.” Kenma dropped those words like a rock and an uncomfortable knot curled tighter in the pits of Bokuto’s stomach. He shook his head again, burying his face against his knees.

 

“Don’t give me hope when there is none, Kenma.”

 

_ ‘Cause your love’s a fucking drag _

 

Back at their apartment, Kuroo paced. He hadn’t been able to step out of his door after Bokuto ran out, and he didn’t think that the former wing spiker would want to see him after making an admission like that. 

 

He was going about this all wrong. He should be out there trying to find him. But the best he could do was call up Kenma and Akaashi to find him. He’d left his phone at the house, and only Akaashi would be able to find Bokuto when he got into a mood like this. He… He didn’t know Bokuto felt that way about him. He thought it was just  _ him _ . He thought that he was the only one who’s heart raced when Bokuto slid his arms around him; thought he was the only one who tried to sleep in as long as possible on those long winter nights to savor every minute of warmth that Bokuto gave him. He thought he’d been gross when he’d begun to look at Bokuto differently. When he’d stopped going to the gym with him because it was so easy to get distracted by the sweat that trailed down Bokuto’s perfectly sculpted back and abs, and always had to hide in the bathroom to hide the boner he got from observing Bokuto’s determined face.  _ “One more rep!” _ He would say. Kuroo’s dick would cry in agony in his boxers.

 

Why hadn’t he noticed when Bokuto’s feelings changed towards him. Did he feel like this the whole time; even when he was freaking out about Kenma being gone? Is that why he thought Kuroo liked Kenma better?

 

Fuck.

 

_ You just love making a mess of things, don’t you Tetsurou? _

 

Kuroo wasn’t sure what made him hate himself more: for not realizing Bokuto’s feelings, for making Bokuto think that he liked Kenma more than him, or for not kissing him back properly the first and last time their lips touched all those years ago.

 

As he continued to pace and rip himself a new one, Kuroo’s phone rang in his grasp. He looked down at it - abandoned and lonely on the couch once he’d thrown it there after calling Akaashi and Kenma to look for Bokuto. He debated on answering for a moment, but figuring that it was Akaashi or Kenma he strolled back over and scooped the device into his too large hands and answered it, pressing the phone to his ear. 

 

“We found him. Come down to the cafe by the library.” 

 

Kenma hung up.

 

Kuroo didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t sure if Bokuto would even want to look at him after all of this, especially considering that he hadn’t even been the one to find him. He should’ve ran after him, he really should’ve. Kuroo shoved his phone into the pocket of his too tight jeans and wrangled his shoes onto his feet and slipped out of the door, remembering at only the last second to grab Bokuto’s phone, and to lock the door behind him.

 

_ But I need it so bad _

 

Kenma and Akaashi managed to wrestle Bokuto into a coffee shop. Quite a feat when Bokuto was broader than both of them combined, but Kenma’s genuine sadness for “causing” this situation between he and Kuroo (Bokuto and Akaashi alike had tried numerous times to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, but both of them knew that Kenma didn’t really believe them), and Akaashi’s icy glare when he tried to take off were enough to keep Bokuto in line to make it to the establishment.

 

Though most cafes closed long before the hour that the three of them were standing before it, it always made special exceptions during final’s week and stayed open 24/7. The manager was a kind old guy that really wanted to do the best he could for the plentiful amount of walking zombies that he saw during this time of year, and from a business standpoint it made perfect sense. He got more profits this way. Akaashi told this to Bokuto as the three of them made their way to the shop; and Akaashi would know what good business sense was, he was studying it after all. Kenma made an offhanded comment about wishing he could give his family business to Akaashi instead, and Akaashi offhandedly suggested that Kenma just hire him when he became the CEO and let him make all of the decisions so all he’d have to do was sign papers. Though both of them were slightly joking, Bokuto knew that it was something bound to happen in the near future, and honesty, all he could hope was that either of them hooked him up with a job in the mail room or as a receptionist because money was nice and Kenma’s family’s company made a lot of money. From what he could tell. There was no way Kenma could own all those games, figurines and gaming systems if their family wasn’t rolling in dough.

 

When they entered the shop, they’d sat Bokuto down, ordered him a hot chocolate and told him they would stay with him until Kuroo got there. Bokuto instantly wanted to run, but Akaashi was faster, kicking him in the shin and nailing him with another glare that left Bokuto into a terrified mess in his chair, unsure if he was terrified to see Kuroo more or if he was terrified that Akaashi would try and remove his head from his neck if he so much moved an inch from where he was sitting. He (wisely) decided that Akaashi was scarier. It didn’t take long for him to stroll in, since this place was only a few blocks from their apartment building, though Bokuto was sure neither of them had ever noticed it until today when they were both being forced into it. Kuroo carded a lazy hand through his hair as he approached them, and he was gnawing on his lips so hard that he would probably draw blood. Bokuto wanted to tell him to stop marring his pretty face, but it felt too wrong considering the context of  _ why _ Kuroo was here, and why he was here, and why the two of them could barely make eye contact, even as Kuroo slid into the chair next to Akaashi.  _ Not Kenma _ . Bokuto observed. But it didn’t matter anyway, as the two of them were standing up the second Kuroo’s butt hit the chair. 

 

“We’ll meet you two later.” Akaashi said. He gave Bokuto a hard look.  _ Talk to him _ . Was what his eyes demanded and with a small gulp, Bokuto nodded. Kenma, similarly, was giving Kuroo a hard look. But unlike with Akaashi, he couldn’t read the words behind the eyes like Kuroo probably could. He wondered if he gave Kuroo such a look if he would understand it; Bokuto certainly understood the way Kuroo’s eyebrows rose and fell whenever something happened to warrant that response. But he didn’t think he really had any facial expressions that needed reading. He was always a fairly open person, even in his misery. This was the one thing that Bokuto had tried to keep from Kuroo all this time, and even then, he’d ended up failing at doing that. Curse his open nature. It was the one time that Bokuto wished that he was better at hiding his own demons.

 

Their pretty setters were wandering back outside the cafe within the next two minutes, leaving Bokuto and Kuroo alone in the shop. They stared at each other for a moment, before Kuroo was ducking his head to stare down at his twiddling thumbs, and Bokuto glanced up and away to study the paintings that hung haphazardly around the walls of the little establishment. While some pictures were more grotesque than others, some shined with the kind of innocence that Bokuto most associated with youth. With falling in love with your best bro. With kissing Kuroo under the tree that day; the last day of training camp with the sun beating down on his back and with Kuroo’s lips softer than any futon he’d ever lay on afterwards.

 

“Bo,”

“Tetsu,” Both of them stopped when the other began to talk and it left an even more jarring silence to befall the two of them. Once again, their eyes strayed, and Kuroo found himself staring out of the window to the shop and to the liquor store that sat only a hair’s breadth away from the cafe they were currently in. 

 

“Are you still drunk?”

“Probably.” Kuroo shifted uncomfortably. “Did you want to do this now then?”

“If we don’t, Akaashi will kill me.” Kuroo hummed in understanding, and flitted his eyes away again. “I don’t think Kenma will ever forgive himself if we don’t either.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“It’s mine.” Bokuto blinked owlishly at Kuroo, and Kuroo turned his head away again. 

 

“I like you.” Kuroo finally said. 

 

Bokuto’s head shot up.

 

“I… I don’t think I understand.” Bokuto’s tongue felt too big for his mouth, he could hardly form the words in the midst of his surprise. While he knew Kuroo  _ liked _ him, he didn’t think he  _ liked _ him the way that saying it aloud with suggest. Kuroo’s ears were beginning to burn like red hot coals, and he wanted to do nothing more than die than have this conversation. But when he looked up into Bokuto’s eyes, they were shining with a sort of hope that he hadn’t seen in them in a very long time - since Kenma came back actually. It was a hopelessly open, hopelessly optimistic, starry eyed look that Kuroo had missed for a long time now, but he didn’t know how to ignite that fire to bring those stars back. If this is what he had to do all along, maybe he would’ve gotten over his half-hearted fears and told Bokuto this sooner. Much sooner. Maybe even before Kenma left at all. Maybe when they first moved in together. Maybe when they’d kissed on that day on the hill.

 

“I like you.” Kuroo repeated. Bokuto shook his head. “You like Kenma.”

“Kenma’s my best friend.” Kuroo said. “But you’d be the best boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Bokuto’s face slowly flushed and suddenly feeling shy, he hid his face behind his hands. Uncharacteristic, but still charming, and Kuroo suddenly felt a smile begin to blossom underneath the crushing feeling that he was messing it up. He wasn’t… he couldn’t be. He could see the corners of Bokuto’s mouth turn up behind his hands, and he slowly reached over the table to pull his hands away and be graced with the most sincere and gentle smile that Bokuto had ever given to him.

 

Kuroo’s heart stuttered in his chest. 

 

“Bo…”

“I like you too.” Bokuto said. He was practically beaming now, brighter than any star that Kuroo had ever observed for his astronomy class on the roof of their apartment building. He remembered how Bokuto always insisted on coming up with him, and tried to trace new and much “cooler” patterns in the sky, using his finger to guide Kuroo’s eyes to discover them. He’d tried to make a cat in the sky once and it’d failed miserably. Bokuto couldn’t draw, but he was earnest in whatever he did, and Kuroo smiled at it, pretending to see the cat’s whiskers and tail even though he was sure one of them was apart of the Big Dipper and the other wasn’t in anything at all, but definitely couldn’t connect to that star from that angle… But Bokuto had been pleased with himself, and Kuroo didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was wrong. He never did. Unless it was with something serious, like his grades, or math, or that trying to spike like that would probably kill him.

 

Kuroo found himself leaning in, and wasn’t surprised when Bokuto met him halfway there to brush their lips together in the fondest of kisses. It felt easy to slide their lips together and the sparks that went off like dynamite in his head at the thought were quelled by the actual feeling of their lips together. It felt like something long coming; like a soldier coming back from the war to meet his honey and her lips felt like home again. Bokuto’s lips and cherried breath felt like home to Kuroo, felt like this was something he should’ve been doing for a long time. A feeling he should’ve recognized the very first time they’d kissed and how unbelievably soft it felt. There wasn’t any experience behind Bokuto’s kiss but it was a gentle and earnest desire that broke Kuroo’s heart as much as it put it back together with every shared breath.

 

Bokuto pulled back first, and while his ears were red, the biggest, and brightest smile that Kuroo had seen on him to date shone on his face.

  
_ You’re worse than nicotine _


End file.
